


I Hate Goodbyes

by rocket_pop



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, Dissociation, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medication, Self-Hatred, Tags May Change, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_pop/pseuds/rocket_pop
Summary: Dream doesn't wanna be sick.Dream doesn't want anyone to worry.Dream doesn't want to say goodbye.He's glad he doesn't get the chance to.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 499





	1. 1

Dream had a tendency to ignore things when they got bad. 

It's a bad habit of his, but it was his way of dealing with things. He never liked to acknowledge things that were awful, the things that could change things. He'd rather just let whatever it was rest until it was less daunting, or it went away and stop bothering him. 

He ignored it when he and Sapnap fought before, he ignored it when he realized he liked George as more than a friend and he ignored how ill he felt currently. He had the mindset that it always gets way worse before it gets better, and it's something he's thought ever since he was a kid. Whenever he waited things always turned around, things always worked out for him. Him and Sapnap have a stronger friendship, things are normal between him and George and just because he was still sick doesn't mean he will be for much longer. He brushes it off. He tells anyone who asks him that it's just a cold, leaving out the details of his symptoms- none of which were that of a cold. He figures that he shouldn't worry anyone, as much as he knows they would care he didn't feel like telling them about something that will just go away. Dream doesn't like worrying people. 

So what if he felt a little tired? Or a little weak? Most people feel like that from time to time; it'll pass. He was still able to ignore it when it got even worse. When he felt more tired every time he woke up, or when he could barely eat something without his body wanting to reject it. He didn't question it and continued life as normal. 

Dream takes pride in his work. He had gotten to a point where he has a good uploading schedule and he wasn't going to change that because he had felt a little off. He could push past the dizziness to record another video. He could pretend to not feel the dull ache in his bones so he could make his friends laugh a little more. He could disregard his fatigue if it meant he could stream for another hour. He wasn't one to disappoint, and he never wanted to be. He felt pressure to keep up with everything. His channel was growing so fast and he didn't like to think about what would happen if he were to stop posting. He was grateful for everything that he had, and he didn't want it to go away. He could barely grasp onto it as it is, he couldn't sit there and watch everything slip through his fingers. He didn't stop uploading, in fact, he started to work even harder. He thinks that he should have content to post out in case he gets worse. He can’t afford to have it all stop.

\---

It was around noon and Dream was testing out a new plugin for a video. It was Minecraft, but every time you hit something, you get taken to a random location. He was in call with George and Sapnap, they were messing around in the test world and talking to one another. 

"Wait so, if I hit this cow I should teleport?" Sapnap said, standing in the middle of a savanna. 

"Yeah, and you should end up pretty far away too," Dream replies, looking over the code again in another tab. Sapnap stabs the cow and nothing happens. Dream is annoyed, he had spent his whole morning looking over the code over and over again and he didn't get why it didn't work. George laughs, and normally Dream would make a joke, or just go back to the code, but he's frustrated. He wants to be able to make a code that works for once. He hated how foggy his mind was lately, of course the moment that he was able to think straight he got it wrong.

"Oh my god, shut up George," he hates how his tone sounds. He didn't want to be rude to George but the words find their way out anyways.

"Woah uh, why don't you take a break from coding and eat something?" Sapnap interjects, not wanting his two friends to fight. Sapnap was right, Dream hadn't eaten anything since yesterday but he wasn't hungry, he was annoyed. 

"Yeah you already have like, two whole videos waiting to be posted, I can just fix the code for this one," George says. He doesn't even sound mad at Dream for snapping at him, he just wanted to help him. 

"Oh yeah right 'cause it's so easy for you to just fix it," he sneers. Dream was way too irritated to be having a conversation like this. He was going to say something he regrets, but he didn't stop. 

"That's not what h-" Sapnap was cut off. 

"You know what? I can't deal with either of you," Dream says before leaving the Discord call. He immediately regrets it. He hates how he acted. He was just so stressed for not having a lot of videos to post, frustrated that whatever he tried wasn't working, and mad at himself and his body. He didn't get why he felt so sick, and why it didn't go away. He hated not understanding his own body. He was so upset, and he took it out on his friends who were only trying to help him. He doesn't talk to Sapnap or George for the rest of the day, he doesn't have it in him. He didn't want to mess things up again. 

Dream feels like even more of a jerk than he already did when he wakes up and sees that George sent him the code for the plugin without saying anything else. Dream saw the notification that George went live a while ago, and he checks to see if he still is. He's currently trying to speed run and watches him try and fail before saying something in chat. The chat is suddenly spamming Dream's name, trying to get George to see. 

"Oh, Dream is here?" he says while pausing to catch up on some donations. "Dream join the voice chat," Sapnap says talking over George reading a donation. 

Dream contemplated whether or not he should talk to them since he still felt bad from yesterday but it sounds like they're both over it. He decides that, if he can't control his body and how he feels he can at least control how he acts, he doesn't want to hurt his friends again. He joins call, and everything is fine. They talk and banter like usual while George tries to beat the game, occasionally giving him tips on what to do next. 

"You missed a village," Sapnap points out. It had been a new seed after George died to a wither skeleton, and they were all relatively chill aside from George's screams. 

"What? No I didn't," George says, instantly going into third person to look around. "Oh wait, yeah I did," he says turning around and running towards it, letting out a sheepish laugh. Dream had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire stream, normally he would've called George a name in a teasing manner, or would have yelled at him for dying in the nether. Truth be told, Dream just felt exhausted despite just waking up not too long ago. His limbs felt heavy as he moved a water bottle to his mouth only to realize it's empty. His mouth still feels dry and he's still thirsty. 

"I'm gonna go get some water," Dream says before standing up from his chair. 

He thinks he hears a reply from either George or Sapnap but they sound so far away. Dream saw black spots lining his vision. He tries to mute himself so they don't hear him, his fingers feel numb. His whole body is hot, he needs to sit down. 

He needs everything to stop. 

It's all too fast. 

He doesn't remember collapsing onto his desk. He hears his friends panicked voices asking him what that was. He can't respond to them. His mouth won't move, his body won't budge. 

The last thing Dream remembers is how scared he felt in that moment. 


	2. 2

Dream's mind feels foggy when he wakes up. 

He doesn't recognize the walls around him, for a second he thinks he's still asleep until he notices the very real and very apparent ache in his whole body. He tries to sit up from where he was laying down but his body is too weak. It makes him mad, why can't he even sit up? Why can't he be strong? How was he supposed to survive if he couldn't even handle a simple action? He thinks he’s pathetic. He notices his mom is in the unfamiliar room. He can't tell if she's been here this whole time or if she just got here. Either way, her eyes light up when she realizes that he's awake. She reaches her hand over to him and places the backside against his forehead before resting it in her lap as she spoke.

"Hi honey, how are you feeling?" Her voice is smooth and gentle. Dream recognized that voice; he's heard it so many times. It was the kind of voice she used when he was learning to ride a bike and his skin would roughly graze the concrete, or when he stayed up late studying for a test only to get a bad grade. The kind of voice she used when she knew Dream needed to be comforted, and that's the part that made him so confused. Why would he need to be comforted for a cold? Even if it’s not a cold, he doesn’t think it’s that bad. Dream realized that he didn't actually know what happened still. He didn't know why he was in this room in the first place with his mom looking at him like that. Maybe something bad actually happened.

"I'm fine..." he starts, trailing off and clearing his throat, "but can I have some water?" His voice is hoarse and sounds as weak as he feels. "Of course," she replies with the same soft tone. She leaves the room and it leaves Dream with some time to think about what happened. He was watching George play Minecraft, he thinks. He can’t be sure. He was talking to both him and Sapnap. He was...

_ Shit.  _

The memory is fuzzy, but Dream has a good enough idea of what went down. He quickly reaches into his pocket for his phone, grateful that it was somehow still on him and unlocks it with shaky hands. There's so many notifications from his friends asking him if he was okay and what happened. He checks Twitter, which might've been a mistake granted his already exhausted state. There's so many tweets. He scrolls through his feed, seeing tweet after tweet of fans asking if he was okay, and that he had their support through whatever he was going through. His eyes land on a video, a clip from George's stream. 

_ "I'm gonna go get some water." _

Dream listens to the sound of his own voice. 

_ There's a loud and sudden thump that came from Dream's mic. George’s Minecraft character stops moving and he looks into the camera, a nervous look was on his face as he bites his lip. An uncomfortable laugh is heard from him. _

Dream could tell the noise was loud enough to startle him.

_ "Dream? You okay there man?" Sapnap's voice rings out after a bit of silence, his voice was light but you could hear the worried undertones. No response.  _

_ "Dream?" George says, voice more noticeably worried compared to Sapnap’s. They're both eerily silent, waiting for him to reply.  _

_ "C'mon this isn't funny," Sapnap says after more silence.  _

_ The sound of footsteps comes from Dream's mic.  _

He hears the sound of his own sister's voice. 

_ "Clay oh my god are you okay?" Her voice is panicked. Her voice becomes more clear, as if she moved closer to him. "Clay what happened? Please, wake up." She sounds like she's on the verge of tears. She starts mumbling things that can't be understood, before the sound of fast footsteps fade out. The sound of a frantic "MOM!" could be heard before the clip ends.  _

The clip, as short as it is, scares Dream. He doesn't ever remember his sister ever sounding so scared, and he never recalls her ever crying. She was, in his opinion, probably braver than he was it came to things- definitely less sensitive so it worried Dream. Had he looked that bad? Was he bleeding? He checks the camera on his phone, examining his face. There was a bandage covering part of his head, he doesn't need to lift it because he sees the red has already seeped through it. He doesn't remember getting hurt there. It scared him that he didn't remember most of the bruises that he currently saw either. He glances back at the notifications. 

11 missed calls from George.

7 from Sapnap.

Too many discord messages from them for him to count.

He turns off his phone, putting it back into his pocket. He didn’t know how to respond to them. His mom comes back into the room, holding a water bottle. Dream takes it, drinking down most of the water before taking a breath. His mom takes the time to talk. 

"They're going to take more tests now that you're awake," she says, voice careful, like if she spoke too loudly it would break him. 

"Why do they need to take tests? What kind?" 

"It's a standard they have Clay, I think they just need to take your blood and then they'll see if they need to take anything more. You hit your head pretty hard, they want to make sure it’s nothing serious." Dream nods, still feeling a bit out of it. He honestly didn't know what to say, nor did he know how to address what happened to not only his fans, but his friends. He needed an easy solution. He didn't want to make anyone worry but how was he supposed to tell people everything was fine if they had seen the full clip? There were over five million views on it. Five million people had listened to him faint on stream. How was he supposed to manage that? He was a content creator, he really only wanted to entertain people- what kind of person would he be if he made his entire fanbase worried for him? He was supposed to be there for his fans, in a way, he helped some of them by giving them something to focus on, something to use to cope. He closes his eyes. The silence eats up at Dream, he wants to go back to sleep. He can't deal with this right now, it felt like too much. His body ached for sleep, but his mind was flooding with thoughts too loud for him to rest. He wished that he had muted his mic before he stood up, he didn't want people to care. He wished he could find a way where he could make sure no one felt bad for him. He wanted to know what had been wrong with him lately. Why couldn't he just be normal? Like how he used to? Frustration builds up inside him, and he wants nothing more than to cry hot and angry tears. But he'd never do that in front of his mom, she didn't deserve his rage. He already saw the sadness in her eyes, he knew that she blamed herself. He didn't want to make it worse. 

What Dream didn't know is, it didn't matter how he acted. Things were going to get worse whether he likes it or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mm sorry if updates are slow, I'm currently on a trip and I don't want to rush this one, more chapters hopefully once I'm back :)


	3. 3

Dream hates needles, and the bruises that came with them. The hospital in general left him in a daze, all the tests left him somehow more drained. It's why he was so eager to go home, he was excited to get things back to normal. He tried his best to answer the questions the nurse asked, but his mind was hazy. He could only focus on the way the nurse's expression changed every time he talked and told her more. He didn't like how it changed to more worried, more knowing. Going home distracted him from thinking. He could ignore the world on the drive home, he stared out the window drifting in and out of conciseness while his mom drives. He wanted to block out the thoughts that kept coming back. 

What if something was actually wrong with him? 

The thought is the start of a plague on his mind. Once the questions start, he can't get them to stop. He doesn't want to doubt himself, he wants to feel like everything will be okay. Walking to his room from the car gives him time to think about nothing, he focuses on the small task. The comfort, as minimal as it is, doesn't last for long. The moment he lays down on his bed, he turns on his phone. In the midst of all tests and talking he had forgotten about his worried friends, Twitter, and the clip that had been circling everywhere. He feels anxiety come back in a sickening swirl in his stomach. He feels it in his fingers; they're shaking as he scrolls through missed texts from his friends, some of which he hadn't talked to in so long. He figures that his lack of response had worried everyone. Dream doesn't know what to do. He knows that he should try and calm the nerves of his friends and fans but he couldn't bring himself too. Was he supposed to lie? He knows he's able to, he's done it before to calm people down, but this situation feels different. What's the point in lying if no one will believe you anyways? He doesn't think he would be able to convince anyone that he is fine, it doesn't matter how good at lying he is. His finger hovers over the call button on a group chat with Sapnap and George. He figures they're the only ones he could talk to. He calls them. 

Almost immediately, Sapnap joins the call. 

"Dream!" He winces at the volume. "What the hell happened?" Sapnap asks in a rushed voice. 

"I.." Dream trails off, he didn't even know what to say, all he knew is he craved the comfort his friends always managed to give him. He needed someone to talk this out with. He wanted them to say that everything would be okay. He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence because George joins the call. 

"What happened? Are you okay?” Dream can tell that he's panicked but is trying to act calm, maybe for Dream's sake. He lets out a breath of air, it made him happy that they cared. He felt lucky to have friends like these, they wouldn't judge him for anything. He decides to tell them the truth. 

"Basically I fainted on stream and…” he cleared his throat, why was he always so thirsty? “My sister found me and she took me to the hospital. They did some tests but it's all good now," he finally says. He wanted to let it go as fast as he could, he lets it all out in one go keeping it short. 

"I'm glad that she found you,” his voice is soft. Dream likes the warmth that spreads through him because of it. “I ended the stream after that but I'm sure you've seen the clips," George says, sounding genuinely bad. He knows how much Dream liked to keep his personal life to himself. He didn't like it when things were out of his hands. He can't stop the video from being posted everywhere, and it made him kind of annoyed. 

"I have.." he trails off again. His mind is still fuzzy and he tries his best to focus on the conversation. He's busy thinking about what he would say to his fans.

"Are you sure you're okay? Like, have you ever even fainted before?" Sapnap's voice rings out. It was a good question, and it was one Dream wanted to ignore. 

"Yes I'm sure," he lets out a laugh but it falls short, he cringes. If either of them notice the artificiality of it all, they don't mention it. Dream doesn't let them have another word in, he really only wanted to let them know that he was still alive. He couldn't stay on call for much longer. They know him too well, the longer he stayed the easier it would be to pick up on the fact that Dream was worried. He had never fainted before nor had he ever felt so weak, all of it scared him. He didn't want them to pick up on the fact that Dream knew there was something more going on. He hadn't had any concrete proof of it yet, the test results had yet to come back, but he feels it in his guts. Something is wrong with him. He's way too tired to pretend to act like how he was expected to. He didn't have it in him to make jokes, or talk to his friends in the way he wants to. 

"I think I'm gonna go to sleep," he says. 

They don't mention how it was only 4pm for him and they say their goodbyes. Dream felt as though he had been sorting through problems that all seemed way too daunting for him to deal with. He wanted to curl up into his blankets and forget the world, exhaustion creeping in on him. Something that seemed so small and easy to do made him feel anxious. Because sure, he could convince his friends that everything was fine through a short call but could he do the same for millions of fans? Ones that are already so worried about him? He's seen them analyzing posts of his before, and he knows they're bound to do it again. He wants to write something to deliver the least amount of damage, so less people worry. He keeps it simple. 

He shuts off his phone before he sees the replies on his tweet. He ignores it like he does with a lot of things and distracts himself with a few games on Hypixel, not caring if his friends see he's online. He had an excuse for that if it came to it. He doesn't deal with it the morning after when he wakes up either. The world was way less unsettling this early, even if the state of it only lasted for a few hours. He wanted to keep it as peaceful for as long as he could. It was 5am, the sky was still a deep blue. Dream's house was quiet; his mom had yet to wake up for work. He used the silence to reflect. 

He still couldn't convince his mind that everything was okay, but the thoughts had quieted significantly after telling people about it. He found sanity in reassuring others that he was safe, even if he didn't believe it himself. He rakes his hand through his hair, it was greasy and he knew he needed a shower. He drags himself to his bathroom, his body still feels heavy but it's gotten more manageable. He stops when he gets a glance at himself in the mirror. 

His lips are chapped, his face is oily, his hair is gross. The bags under his eyes seem a bit more notable, which doesn't even make sense to him. There's a bruise on his forehead that he still can't remember getting, he knows it's from the fall. He looks skinnier, it's not by a lot, but it's noticeable to him. 

He looks sick. 

Dream has always struggled with his appearance, ever since he was a kid. It's part of why he hasn't shown his face to the internet, too scared of people calling him ugly, too scared of people confirming what he already thinks is true. This definitely didn't help. He avoids looking at his body in the shower, cold water used to calm his nerves. What happened to that? He still felt the pit in his stomach. It seemed to rest in the background, no matter how busy he made himself with editing or anything else he did to pass the time. He knew why. He was getting the results of his testing today, he hated the waiting. He wanted to be sure that he wasn't sick, and that if he was, it was easily curable. 

The day came and went. He filled the time absent-mindedly watching YouTube. He couldn't stand editing for too long, he didn't want to hear his voice when he was normal. He quickly pauses the video he had been watching but couldn't focus on when his mom walked into the room. She looks off. Dream had never been good at telling what people were feeling easily, and it was no different for his mom. 

"Did you get the call?" he asks, looking up at her from his chair. She nods before walking over and sitting down on his bed. She looks as tired as he felt. 

"They think they know what you have," she starts, her voice slightly wavering, "but they want to do more tests to be sure." 

"What do I have?" Dream asks, eyes never leaving his mom. She doesn't respond, instead she stands up and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. Dread fills inside of him. He could see tears lining her eyes when she walked towards him. Tears rolled down his face. He hated crying but he couldn't keep it in anymore. 

He didn't need anymore confirmation. 

Dream was sick, and both of them knew it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thinkin bout how I forgot a very important tag :sunglasses:


	4. 4

Dream thinks the symptoms get worse now that he knows what's wrong. He's acutely aware of what every itch, burn, and ache means- he's spent countless hours researching the ins and outs of his diagnosis. Needless to say all the research did not do anything to help his growing anxiety. He thinks that the more he thinks about it, the worse everything seems, in a stupid reverse placebo kind of way. He thinks he's overreacting.

Either that or his condition is actually getting worse. That would mean all the headaches he's getting actually mean something, that he's getting weaker. He didn't like to think like that. He liked thinking things were okay, even if it hurt him. It didn't make sense with how much more sick he felt, but he pushed the bad and worried thoughts away. It'll only make things worse.

Dream can't seem to focus on anything anymore. He's just... tired all the time. It feels like a chore to do things that he would've found easy months ago. His mouse hovers over the 'start stream' button as he absentmindedly scrolls through Twitter. It's probably the tenth time this week he tried to distract himself with it. It never really works, there's thousands of new tweets from fans every day about his absence and his health. He thinks it's sweet that they care but he can't help but feel bad for worrying him. He barely addressed what happened, and him not making any videos or streaming isn't helping. He flicks his eyes back up to his cursor, staring at it before closing the tab completely. He's getting more and more frustrated at himself, he should be able to handle a stream just to let everyone know that he hasn't suddenly passed away. He should be able to act like himself, but he can't. He isn't the same as he was a few months back. He can't manage to record or act as lively as he used to be. He can't force himself to do all the things he's supposed to be doing.

He doesn't even recognize himself.

Not with how much weight he lost because he can't force himself to eat, not with the eye bags that have gotten so much more noticeable, and not with the way his skin has gotten so much paler. His hair is falling out from the treatments they're trying and He's acting different too, pulling himself away from friends not even on purpose. Maybe a small part of him doesn't want them around in case he gets sicker. He knows that rationally, it isn't his fault for acting so different. It's all just because of his cancer, but he blames himself. Maybe if he was stronger. Maybe if-

His thoughts are cut off by a notification from his phone.

GeorgeNotFound is streaming Minecraft

He softly smiles and clicks on the stream, wiping away the angry tears he hadn't realized were there before. He wouldn't let anyone know this because he'd never hear the end of it, but hearing George's voice brought comfort to him. Even if it wasn't directed towards him, it was still nice. He lets his stream take his full attention, and he hesitates before he says anything in chat. He wants to let him know that he's here, as distant as he's been lately. The chat is spammed with his name, and George pauses in the middle of running.

"Dream is here?" he asks, looking into the camera for a second. He's obviously still reading chat, and Dream logs onto discord and sees if George is in VC. His cursor is hovering over the join call, it reminds him of not too long ago. He clicks it.

"Hello?"

"Dream you're here!" George says, and Dream ignores the way his heart feels with the way he could see him smile on stream. He figures that it's good for him to start being on streams again with someone else, and he keeps checking in on chat to see what they're saying. He can't help it. He's only occasionally popping in to make a joke or just talk while George is trying to beat the game, but it's enough for the fans to calm down a bit. They're less worried. He can tell from the way he sounds that George isn't convinced he's okay, not after how he fainted on stream. But Dream knows George won't address it, at least not on stream. He's safe for now. It gives him enough time to think about what his story is for the questions he knows George is gonna ask. He can't exactly tell him the truth, he doesn't want to worry him. And in a sick part of his brain, he wants to see how much worse he can get before he has to tell someone. Maybe, he'll get his treatments and get better before he has to say anything. How do you even tell someone that you have cancer? It just seems too heavy for him to just push onto George. All the donations coming in asking if Dream is okay is getting a bit much for him, he can't convince all of them that he's okay. He doesn't blame them, he sounds as awful as he feels. He disregards it, and tries to act the most like himself. He switches to being more lively then he's ever been with the conversation they're having.

He feels like he isn't fooling anyone.

The stream ends with George beating the game and reading through the rest of the donations. He makes sure the stream is off before he speaks.

"Dream?" George's voice comes out soft, words dripped in honey. Dream hums in acknowledgement, though he already knows how the conversation is going to go.

"Are you..." he pauses in the middle of his sentence, "okay?" his voice choice is careful, and Dream can tell he's been thinking about this for awhile. Dream feels bad for being annoyed, George is just being a good friend. But he hates how he's treating Dream- like he's this fragile thing that needs to be taken care of. Like he needs to be saved from himself. He doesn't need saving.

"I'm fine, it's just a cold," Dream lets the lie drop from his lips. He hates that George is worried about him.

"Okay.." he can tell George doesn't believe him but he's not going to back out of the lie now. He can't just turn around and tell him the truth. He hasn't told any of his friends yet- he's just kept it to himself. It would make everything worse, he knows this. He can feel the sickening pit in his stomach come back, he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be lying to his best friend about something so huge but the words spill out before he can stop him. The need to convince George he's fine overcomes the urge to tell the truth. George's peace of mind is more important than him, he reasons.

"I mean it, I'll be all better in like a week," he lies again. George doesn't respond this time. Dream sighs softly, he wishes he was better at lying. He leaves the call, he hopes George doesn't mind him not saying goodbye. The pit in his stomach morphs to a sort of numbness he's become accustomed to, he doesn't know how to feel. He can't bring himself to do anything other than blankly stare at his computer, the stream had been so draining and it wasn't even his. How is he supposed to manage to get past this? It's his job to make videos and stream, he can't just stop.

He's on the verge of falling asleep when things suddenly start to make sense to him.

The way his body aches. The way the doctors talk to his mom. The way he's been asleep more than awake. The way his family has turned from carefree and happy to more caring and worried about him- even his dad whose known for being stoic and callous is acting kind.

For the first time, it occurs to Dream that he's dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO sorry for taking such a long break without updating this, school has been so hard but I finally know where I'm going with this story, I have the next few chapters planned out :D also ty for all the comments and kudos they literally make my day you guys are so nice ilysm <3


	5. 5

Throughout the course of his entire life, Dream had gone through many challenges.

His grandma had developed Alzheimer's when he was only a freshman in high school. He remembers how it progressed from her simply forgetting a word or phrase to her completely forgetting him. He was the only one she didn't remember. He had to sit back and watch as the woman who had always been a sort of safe-haven from everything slowly forgot him. He had to sit back and watch as her brain rot without her even knowing who he was. Without her even knowing how painful it was to watch her slowly waste away. He had blocked out a lot from back then, mostly because it had been too upsetting to think about, but he vaguely recalls wondering if he was even  _ worth  _ being remembered. 

When he was a senior in high school, his body seemed to betray him for the very first time. He couldn't get up in the morning, he didn't want to. He spent far too many mornings in his painfully cold and dark room just willing himself to get up and start the day until one day he decided it wasn't worth it anymore. He didn't want to wake up, he didn't care about his grades or school. One day skipped had turned to five and before he knew it he hadn't been to school in a month. He was far too wrapped up in sleeping, in crying, in wishing he had the urge to start his day instead of wasting his life away. His father didn't understand it anymore than Dream did. He still remembers how after a month of avoiding school his dad broke down his locked door shouting at him. His eyes were trained on the broken shards of wood on his floor as he yelled at him. If he stared at his floor long enough now, he could still see the way the splinters found their way into the carpet. His dad didn't understand, so they fought. Screaming matches had become a norm especially when Dream  _ still  _ refused to go to school. It took his dad threatening to kick him out for things to change. Dream still remembers the anger in his father's eyes when he yelled. It left Dream with a rocky relationship with him but he passed school that year. 

When Dream was a young adult just starting out in the world, he had ambition. It didn't take him long to get back on his feet with the same light in his eyes and he took his intensity and ran with it. He wanted to make something of himself, to create something that he could be proud of. He tried and tried again until he finally saw the fruits of his efforts, and  _ god  _ it had been a great feeling. The feeling didn't last for long though. Looking back, Dream wishes he wasn't as sensitive to criticism. Was wanting people to like him such a bad thing? He would scroll past Twitter looking through thousands upon thousands of hate comments, almost desensitized to the way it hurt. He just wanted to create something that he and others would like, but he was pushed down time and time again. He couldn't count the amount of times he would break down after a particular hate comment hit close to home. The amount of times he almost just gave up and listened to his dad. 

But every single time the world tried to knock him down, he always found his way back up. Everything he's gone through has tested him and helped make him the person he is today.

He spent the last few years with his grandma spending as much time with her as possible. She gave him advice that he's still forever grateful for. She left him with a new appreciative approach to life. Because of her, he's learned to not take anything for granted. 

He passed high school that year because of his dad. Although at the time he hated him and felt guilty for making him angry, he realized later on that he was only trying to help him. Dream's been trying so hard to rebuild the trust in their relationship, and it's working. It felt nice knowing that his dad still loved him, he'd spent far too long thinking the exact opposite. 

He's continued to grow his channel despite the amount of hate he got. He got to watch as all his hard work got even more recognition, to a point where his name was well known throughout the community he was in. He's glad he didn't give up back before his career even started. 

He's been shown through countless situations that things work out with time. He knows this. And yet...

"The cancer has developed faster than we thought it would."

He's back at the hospital with his mom. He usually zoned out during these talks but he couldn't help but fight to stay focused on the monotone voice of the doctor. He blankly stared back into the beady eyes of the nurse, pushing down the silent rage bubbling inside him. It wasn't their fault he was dying faster than they thought. It wasn't her fault that he was mad. He looks at his mom's saddened expression as she intently studies the diagram the doctor had shown her. Apparently, the cancer had grown and spread to other parts of his body faster than it was supposed to. It explained the new symptoms he had, they said. It was why everything hurt ten times more than before and why his blood pressure had been so low when the nurse took it. He closes his eyes, taking in a shallow breath as his mom puts her hand on his shoulder and rubs it. He can't tell if she's doing it to comfort him or herself. 

"-might have to get a transplant since the treatments don't seem to be working. It up to-"

Dream drifts in and out of focus at this point. Transplant? What would that even mean? He knows that he should pay attention but he just  _ can't.  _ He wants to go back to sleep. All of his treatments had been for nothing- he actually thought they were working too. All of the side effects that he tried his best to fight through had been for nothing. He really,  _ really  _ wants to sleep. 

He doesn't even remember going back home, his memory had been awfully fuzzy lately. 

Distantly, it reminds him of his grandma. And distantly, he wishes he had developed Alzheimer's instead of cancer. 

That way, he wouldn't have to think about the people he's hurting by becoming sick. He wouldn't have to notice the way his mom's eyes filled with tears anytime she brought him food. He wouldn't even know who she is. It's selfish, because it would only bring more pain to others instead of himself. He briefly wonders if there's a sort of hidden joy of not knowing what's happening to you. Of not knowing that you're going to die soon. He knows that it's wrong to wish for bliss like that. But he's so  _ exhausted _ . He doesn't want to think about everyone, about the fans he's letting down, about the friends he hasn't talked to in weeks, about his family knowing that he doesn't have that much time left. 

He's tired, but he's tired of letting people down too. If his body wanted him to die so badly, then he should make the most of what little time he has left. So he tries to. He starts making videos again, albeit a lot slower this time, and messages friends occasionally; stopping his complete radio silence. Deep down, he knows that he doesn't have hope for himself anymore. He hasn't internalized any of the things he's telling himself. He's probably going to die. What does it matter? 

Still, the false optimism he's placed inside himself works. He's getting better. He has to be. 

It didn't take long before it all came crashing down on him again, and this time it took shape in the form of a phone call. 

It had been late at night, for the first time in awhile he felt the urge to go on a walk. He needed to move his body, to test his limits. It was uncharacteristically cold outside, he noticed as he walked without direction. He knows that he shouldn't be out this late without telling anyone, in case something were to happen to him but he didn't care. He felt oddly at peace as of now, the streets he's crossed too many times to count, the scent of the sea in the air, and the chilling air had all been somehow calming; familiar. He closes his eyes and when he opens them again he's greeted by a shore. He watches as the calm waters brush their way onto the rough sand before looking up at the sky. Not a single star was present, the dark and looming clouds covered the light until they couldn't be seen anymore. He glances back down at the water. Subtle waves had stirred in the water barely disrupting the stillness, the tranquility of it all was almost too good to be true. It was the calm before the storm, he tried to forget about how that's how he felt too. He hears stray pieces of sand crunch beneath his shoes as he walks on the creaky docks, observing the deep blue water. He'd been here before, multiple times with his family but never by himself. It was peaceful. He tried to let himself relax but was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. 

**_Incoming call from George..._ **

He immediately accepts the call, propping the phone up next to his ear. 

"Hello?" George's voice rings out, cutting through the sound of the water moving and Dream's own breathing. 

"Hey," Dream replies, and he can't help but let out a smile. Maybe it was a bit silly, but out of everyone that could have called him, he was glad it was George. He somehow perfectly fit into the calmness, "What's up?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing is all," George says, his gentle tone filling Dream's ears. 

"Oh! I'm doing fine, how are you?" Dream easily deflects, glancing up at the soft light of the moon that had once been covered by the clouds. It's silent on the other end of the call, if he really pauses and listens, he could hear the sound of George breathing. It was oddly comforting, in a way. 

"I heard your treatments weren't working," George finally says, his voice still and unwavering. Dream's blood runs cold as he realizes the severity of those words. 

_ What..?  _

How had he known? He hadn't told any of his friends. Was he really that obvious? Questions raced through his mind and he could feel his breathing pick up in pace. George takes the silence as any confirmation he had needed and continued. 

"Yeah- yeah. Your mom texted me this morning about how I could fly over there and surprise you. She wanted us to meet up before you.." he trails off. George's tone was even, but Dream knew him well enough to recognize the silent rage that his words held and it scared him. 

"George..." Dream trails off as well, not knowing where to start. His voice was full of sympathy for the other man, how the hell was Dream meant to go about this?

"I just- why didn't you tell me?" His voice breaks in the middle of his sentence, the words fall flat onto Dream and pricks at his heart. 

"I didn't know how to- I didn't want you guys to worry."

"You didn't want me to worry? Are you  _ kidding  _ me?" George starts, his voice rising in anger, "Did you just expect me to not worry when your mom texted me basically telling me that you're dying when I had no idea so I better just- just fly over there to say goodbye to you?"

"That's not-" Dream started, but got cut off by George.

"No wait. Did you even want your mom to tell me? Were you planning on me finding out only when you  _ died _ ?" His tone is sharp enough to make him bleed. 

"I was going to tell you!" Dream suddenly yells, letting his anger spill through the words, "I was. I just wanted to see if I could get better before I had to."

"We could've helped you! You didn't- you didn't have to go through all of this alone. Of fucking course I'm going to be worried about you. You could've just dropped dead and I wouldn't know why! I could've helped you..." his words were cut off by a cruel sob. He guessed they'd both be crying tonight. 

"I'm sorry," he cringes as his own voice cracks and falls to regret. 

"Can you answer me honestly, Clay- were you even planning on telling me?" George says after composing himself, but he could still hear the shake in the words. 

George takes his silence as an answer. 

Dream faintly registers the sound of George hanging up on him. He stared into the cerulean waters and wished he had the will to dive down into them. The cold would do nothing to help him, he knows this. But still, he craves the way the water would crash against his whole body. He would struggle as the colossal waves knocked him aside, he would gasp for air, his body would sway- begging to just fall over and yet he remained standing against all odds. Dream gently sets his phone on the dock and takes off his shoes. He dips his legs into the water, almost mesmerized by the way the water rippled around them. If he looked close enough, he could see the outline of small fish darting away from him. The water's freezing, and his breath hitches as he let's more and more of his legs descend and he almost considers getting up and walking home with soaked pants but he ignores the thought and pushes himself off the dock. His body plummets into the water faster than he thought, the water was far deeper than he expected and within seconds his body's surrounded by the piercing quality of the water. He let his eyes flutter closed for the salt water stung. Suddenly, he's transported back to when he was a child. He'd spent so many summers at this exact beach, collecting shells, building sandcastles and wrestling his siblings in the water without a care in the world. The memory was rather melancholic now, he ached to be spent back to last summer, back when things were normal.

Back to when his friends weren't angry with him.

Back to when his mom wasn't sad every time she looked in his direction.

_ Back to when his body just  _ **_worked._ **

He almost didn't want to rise back to the surface. The overwhelming cold was almost comforting in a way. He didn't have to think about how badly his own body betrayed him when it was fighting to try and get Dream to breathe. His breathing comes out as shaky and ragged as he struggled to climb out of the water and back onto the docks. He felt small droplets of rain fall onto his head, the storm had finally begun and he had to go home. He felt numb, like anything that's happened within the past couple of months weren't real. He didn't want them to be. Everything George said was right, and he knew it wasn't being fair to any of his friends but he didn't think it'd get this bad. It took a reality check from George to realize that it's been like this for awhile. He needs to get better. He needs to be able to tell people because he's right, they  _ can  _ help him.

He finds his way home that night with a newfound determination along with shaky legs and dripping wet clothes. 

His illness could take every bit of comfort he's got left but he sure as _hell_ isn't going down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh sorry I took a really long break with this. I've been lacking motivation for this specific series but I hope I delivered <3 this was actually really fun to write and I have a good idea on how I plan to finish this. I can't promise frequent updates but I hope you guys enjoy anyways!!! you are all pogchamp and ily :D

**Author's Note:**

> first time trying to write something with multiple chapters so pacing might be a bit off, anyways hope you guys enjoy :)


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